Hawaiian Skies: ʻIkuā 2026
ʻIkuā 2026 (Okakopa 10 – 8 Nowemapa 8, 2026)
Na Leilehua Yuen, Hawaiʻi Culture and Language Resident at Gemini & NOIRLab
It is ʻIkuā, the last month in our Hawaiian calendar, so we are wrapping up the year. It has been a real privilege to have seen the stars swing entirely through their courses with you.
My apologies for missing last month. Did you miss me? I had some major repairs done inside my shoulder, and typing one-handed has slowed things way down. I had gotten my Apple Voice-to-Text trained to understand Hawaiian, then they upgraded and improved it, and it’s not worked properly since, so dictation is no longer an option. I still have poor motor control in my drawing hand, but here is a little update.
At the end of Hilinamā, Leinani Lozi and I went to Kauaʻi for ʻŌhana Kilo Hōkū stargazing in partnership with Kauaʻi Educational Association for Science & Astronomy (KEASA). The night sky was so clear, and for the first time in my life, I was able to see Ka-Mānai-a-ka-Lani (Scorpius) and Pimoe (Sagittarius) at the same time!
I also saw Mūlehu (part of Casseopeia). Of course, I had to tell everyone that our navigational star Mūlehu, which has been used by our ancestors for a thousand years, is the same star the Apollo astronauts nicknamed Navi (Tiansi/γ Cas) and used to guide their missions in space.
Also, there at the zenith was Humu-mā. Three major navigational constellations at one time! Humu-mā is a navigation star for Kauaʻi, and there I was! Looking right up at it as if I had just landed there! What a privilege to tell the moʻohōkū, the star stories, as those very stars hung in the sky!
Click to view in detail - Credit: NOIRLab/NSF/AURA/L. Yuen
Now let us begin to look at our star chart. Starting as we do with the constellations that set first, Hōkū-ʻIwa, Nine Stars, or, as I was taught, ʻIpu Makani o Laʻamaomao, Boötes, is finally dropping over the horizon, indicating that hurricane season is coming to an end. For us, at least. In the South Pacific, it is just beginning. Also for us, Ka-ua-mea is still hanging tilted in the sky, pouring out the rains.
When we see the constellations on a star chart or bounded by buildings, mountains, or trees, the reality of just how big they are can be forgotten. Ka-mānai-a-ka-lani is so vast that it cannot be covered with the hand. In fact, growing up in Hilo, some portion has always been occluded by clouds. So I had never actually seen Pimoe, the giant ulua fish, beside Ka-mānai-a-ka-lani until that trip! It really stands out as a fish much better when you see it hanging there in the night sky, rather than distorted on paper or an app.
Remember when you see Hua (Lehua-kona / Antares), that it is the knot which ties the hook to the line. The triangular portion is the coil of fishline. The hook is below. Pimoe has escaped from the hook and is swimming away; his tail is near the barb.
Click to view in detail (NOIRLab/NSF/AURA/L. Yuen)
Humu-mā begins the night at zenith this time of year and is used to reach Kauaʻi from the more southern islands. In the famous legend of how those stars were named, a certain chief wanted to sail to Wailuanui on Kauaʻi. His retinue set out to prepare the way, and he set sail after. His hoʻokele, the navigator Humu, had two sons he was training and sent the boys with the early canoes. That hoʻokele was headed off course, so the boys tried to show him which stars to follow — the line of three. He would have none of it, and finally, annoyed at the boys for insisting, threw them overboard. The boys swam for Kauaʻi, following the three stars shining above. Their father, following the three stars, soon overtook and rescued them. They reached Kauaʻi safely, but the other canoes were never heard from again.
The nineteenth-century writer Kupahu tells us:
“O keia mau hoku nona na inoa i hoikeia ae nei maluna, he mau hoku no lakou e kokua ana i ka mea hookelewaa. Penei nae hoi e maopopo ai, ina e manao ana kekahi e holo i Oahu mai Maui aku nei, a i ole, mai Hawaii mai paha, a pae aku i Kauai, alaila, e hoopololei ana no oia i ka ihu o kona waa i kahi a ka hoku e napoo ai, oia no hoi ka lalani hoku i hoikeia ko lakou mau moolelo maluna ae nei. Pela mau no e holo ai a hiki i ka wa e napoo ai kekahi hoku, alaila, e nana ae no i kona hope iho, a pela wale no e holo ai a hiki i kahi e makemake ai. A pela no hoi i ka wa e hoi mai ai, e hoopololei no i ka ihu o ka waa ma kahi e puka mai ai ka hoku, a o ka hope hoi o ka waa, ma kahi e napoo ai ka hoku. Pela mau iho la no hoi e holo ai a hiki wale i kahi e pae ai.”
Ka Nupepa Kuokoa, Volume IV, Number 52, 30 December 1865
These stars, whose names have been shown above, are stars that help the navigator. This is how it is understood: If someone intends to sail to Oahu from Maui here, or perhaps from Hawaii, and land at Kauai, then he will straighten the bow of his canoe toward where the star sets, which is the same line of stars whose stories have been shown above. Sail continuously in this manner until a certain star sets, then look to the one right behind it, and sail only in that way until reaching the desired destination. And it is the same way when returning: straighten the bow of the canoe toward where the star rises, and the stern of the canoe toward where the star sets. Sail continuously in this manner until finally reaching the landing place. *
*Translation by Leilehua Yuen. Original orthography is retained.
Another star to remember at this time of year is Koko-iki, Scheat. It is the tutelary star of Koko-iki, Kohala, and its red hue calls to mind the red soil for which the area is famed, and the fighting spirit of their renowned warriors, Paiʻea Kamehameha probably being their most famous native son. I believe this long-period variable red star may have been what the kilo hōkū observed in connection with the birth of Kamehameha. Other possibilities are Comet Kegler of 1737 (109P/Swift–Tuttle) and The Great Comet of 1744 (C/1743 X1 - Comet de Chéseaux). Hawaiian traditions place his birth in alignment with the earlier comets. The addition of Halley’s Comet to the narrative appears at this point to be a 19th Century addition by European translators.
The name of the star Ahi-wela, Fomalhaut, tickles me. It translates to English as “hot fire,” and also is the title of a love song by Lizzie Doirin & Mary Beckley. It has been covered by many artists, probably most popularly by Iz Kamakawiwoʻole, who combined it with Twinkle Twinkle Little Star, and now that you know Ahi-wela IS a star, it will have a whole new meaning for you! (But I love it the way it was originally written. This is the closest version I have found.)
A hui hou! Lonoikamakahiki! See you next year!
